


Voices.

by GameandWolf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GameandWolf/pseuds/GameandWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty has always heard voices. But he ignores them and carry on killing people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voices.

**Author's Note:**

> Just an older piece that I forgot to post here

_Please don't do that, Jimmy. You're going to hurt people._

Jim ignores the voice in his head and continues to sketch out the blueprints for his newest plans: semtex bomb vests that can be triggered by bullet. Today the voice sounds like Richard, but he never listened to him when the boy was alive, so why should he start now?

 

_He's just a child, James. Please think about what you're doing._

It's mum this time, criticizing over his shoulder as always as Moran straps the little boy into the heavy vest. If Sherlock doesn't figure out what's wrong with the painting in time, this little bit will be decorating the walls of the warehouse he's in. Mum was always so critical of his plans when he was younger, always going on about how strange and weird they were. About why couldn't he have normal hobbies, like a normal child? Most little boys liked to play with dogs and get into harmless scraps with other kids, most of them didn't bring home road kill to dissect or get suspended from school for pinning other boy under water during swim class. Jim snorted. He didn't have to do what she told him.

 

 _You're going to regret this_ Carl hisses in his ear. _Just like you regret killing me_

Jim crept up the hall leading to the pool, waiting for John to step out of the changing stalls and surprise Sherlock. He didn't regret killing Carl. Much. Admittedly, he hadn't _meant,_ to kill him. Just give him a bit of a scare, it just got out of hand. Served him right though, he shouldn't have mocked Jim, shouldn't have laughed at him, shouldn't have gotten him in trouble. He didn't regret it, not really.

 

_You're a fucking lunatic_

He doesn't even know her name and she's joining the chorus of voices rattling around in his head. Some dark haired, doe-eyed slip of a girl that he'd dragged up to his sitting room ad gleefully cut the heart out of, for no other reason than because Moran liked to watch him do those things and he liked Moran. The girl's berating him now as he dances around the vault, a sick and twisted ballet, snatching up the fire extinguisher and smashing it through the glass protecting the crown jewels. He may be a fucking lunatic, but he's a fucking lunatic who knows what he's doing.

 

 

_Don't you fucking dare. All the times you screeched like a howler monkey at me for taking chances and doing something stupid, and you think this is a good idea? I will personally come up there and I will skin you and turn you into shoes. Not nice ones, either. A really terrible pair. I will make Crocs out of you._

Moran's voice is something new in his head. He hasn't heard _that_ voice before, but it shouldn't surprise him, not really. Not with the number of times Moran's been at his side, telling him live and in person what an utter and total prat he's being. Still, he's not one for listening to the voices in his head, and he shouldn't start now.

He should probably stop and think about this, but he's too excited, too overwhelmed. His plan is changing, twisting in his head, rewriting. Sherlock's hand is warm in his and the gun is heavy in his coat pocket, the plan's rewritten, Sherlock can't win, and maybe he should stop and think before he kills this time, maybe he should stop, because this time he might regr-

He was never very good at listening.

 


End file.
